


i put a spell on you (and now you’re mine)

by MissYouSoFar



Category: Buzzfeed: Worth It (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M, steven has a nice neck ok, vampire!Andrew, witch!Steven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-26 20:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16687993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissYouSoFar/pseuds/MissYouSoFar
Summary: “Hi.” Andrew blurts out.He smiles and if Andrew’s heart still beat, it would have skipped or maybe stopped entirely at the sight. Andrew thought he was gorgeous before, but his smile. It was like the sun. No, it was more like the sun and the stars and the whole goddamn galaxy.“Hi, I’m Steven! I just moved in.” He sets his tower of boxes next to his door. “But you probably got that from the boxes and the moving in of furniture.”“Andrew Ilnyckyj.”





	1. thoughts of endless night bring us back into the light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bloogara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloogara/gifts).



> Sooo, I was talking with Bloogara one night while watching A Discovery of Witches and I mentioned something about if Andrew was a vampire, he would be all over Steven's neck and this was born. It became a much larger thing than I intended. 
> 
> Beta’d by blowmedemons on tumblr. Thank you forever. 💕  
> Title is from the movie Hocus Pocus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're intested, I made a playlist for the fic too, because this thing took over my life.
> 
> [I put a spell on you (and now you’re mine)](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/28ysHIUhT0CxSlhuy7403P)
> 
> Chapter title is from Vampires Will Never Hurt You by My Chemical Romance

Steven moves into the apartment next door on Mabon, the Fall Equinox - one of Andrew’s favorite days of the year. Especially since moving to New York, the autumnal glory of the northeast appealing to Andrew more than the bright, sunny beaches and palm trees of California.

Andrew enjoys watching the leaves turn from green to a beautiful array of reds, yellows, and oranges. Likes the way they crunch under his feet when they’ve fallen to the ground and left the branches bare.

(He loves autumn in New York even more after Steven. Loves Steven stealing his sweaters because he’s cold, pulling Steven into a kiss with his scarf, Steven soaking in their clawfoot tub after a long, chilly day, having to pick leaves out of Steven’s hair and clothes after falling into a pile together.

One of Andrew’s favorite fall memories is Steven pressing him against the door of his own apartment after their first date, the taste of mulled wine and desire dancing on his tongue. Steven’s heavy-lidded eyes as he whispered goodnight. An invitation to come inside weighing heavily on Andrew’s lips.

Andrew dreamt of cinnamon for _days._ )

It should be a day like any other, but Andrew wakes up feeling like he hasn’t fed in _weeks,_ overwhelmed by the heady scent of frankincense, cedar, and jasmine filling his senses. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, dry from thirst. The scent in the air clings to his mouth.

It was unusual for him to feel this level of hunger having just fed as recently as yesterday, but Mabon could be affecting him strangely. It had been known to happen to vampires and demons alike, witches usually only gaining strength.

Andrew’s fangs start to extend the longer he lazes in bed, the vampire equivalent of a human’s stomach growling. Thankfully, he still has some blood left in the fridge.

There is a loud crash next door on Andrew’s way to the fridge, followed by someone shouting, “Steven, where do you want this? Also, shit, were those crystals important?”

Andrew has to strain his ears to hear someone, probably Steven, sigh softly and reply, “In the kitchen is fine, Annie.”

He does his best to tune out their conversation as he sits at his breakfast bar, savoring a nice cup of A positive. He even goes as far as putting his favorite Bach record on the phonograph, but he can still hear bits and pieces despite his best efforts to focus on the music.

When they start talking about Annie’s boyfriend, Adam, Andrew decides maybe it’s time to get out of his apartment for a while.

Most of his vampire abilities were more of a curse than a blessing, but he was glad, unlike most lore indicated, he could still walk in the sun with no adverse effects.

(No, he doesn’t sparkle either.)

He grabs his jacket, for appearance's sake, and a book and heads out the door. Central Park was especially beautiful this time of year. Maybe he’d walk through a Shakespeare garden or sit by the lake.

Andrew pauses just outside his door. If the _delicious_ scent was overwhelming inside his apartment, it’s nothing compared to the hallway. He can detect a layer of peppermint and sweat under the cedar, jasmine, and frankincense, as well as the unappealing smell of flowery women’s deodorant.

Someone clears their throat, making Andrew, who didn’t realize he’d closed them, open his eyes.  

The source of the sound is down the hall, holding a teetering stack of boxes. He’s absolutely _gorgeous_ , magic pouring off him in intoxicating, silver shimmering waves. He has a small silver pentacle hanging on the delicate chain around his neck, and his hair is a beautiful, soft purple. It reminds Andrew of his time in the south of France and the summers he spent running through acres of lavender fields.

“Hi.” Andrew blurts out.

He smiles and if Andrew’s heart still beat, it would have skipped or maybe stopped entirely at the sight. Andrew thought he was gorgeous before, but his _smile_. It was like the sun. No, it was more like the sun and the stars and the whole goddamn galaxy.

“Hi, I’m Steven! I just moved in.” He sets his tower of boxes next to his door. “But you probably got that from the boxes and the moving in of furniture.”

“Andrew Ilnyckyj.” He finds himself extending his hand towards Steven, a gesture that surprises himself.   

Steven has to shuffle forward a few steps to reach Andrew’s outstretched hand, his jacket shifting with the movement and-- the scent. It was _Steven_.

Andrew feels his fangs starting to extend unexpectedly, his hunger returning and he drops his hand in surprise before Steven’s skin can make contact with his own.

Steven doesn’t seem to notice Andrew’s hesitation, his hand curving around the bend of his elbow instead. It’s like the strike of a match. Andrew can feel the heat of his palm through his jacket and shirt, so hot that Andrew wouldn’t be surprised to find the outline of Steven’s fingers branded into his skin. He has to leave before the heat burns him alive.

“I’m late for...s-something.” Andrew cringes. There’s no way Steven wouldn’t see through his poor attempt at a lie. Fuck, he’ll worry about that later. “I— I need to. I...gotta go.”

He mutters an apology as he brushes past Steven, tendrils of Steven’s magic clinging to the material of his jacket.

“Wait, I--”

Glancing back, he feels a pang of guilt at Steven’s beautiful face scrunched up in confusion. He is so, _so_ screwed.

“Bye,” Steven sighs, his hand still hovering in the air where Andrew had been.

Universe, 1. Andrew, 0.

* * *

Thankfully, though his scent still clings to the hallway and probably Andrew’s apartment, Steven is nowhere to be found when Andrew returns a few hours (and a couple pints of blood) later.

The only sounds coming from inside Steven’s apartment are the gentle hum of the protective runes Steven magicked onto the door and the occasional meow.

His attraction to Steven, his desire for him, was _dangerous._ For both of them. It had been decades since he’d felt this kind of connection to someone. Andrew had been alone for so long, since becoming a vampire. Too afraid to love someone and have to watch them die. He found it easier to hold himself back and after a few centuries, love and attraction were things that didn’t even cross his mind anymore.

But there was something about Steven.

Andrew slinks down the hallway to find there’s a small post-it note stuck to his door. It’s written in glittery pink gel pen.

* * *

 Andrew —

Sorry about earlier. I’m having a housewarming party tomorrow night if you wanna come. I promise I don’t bite. ;) — SL

* * *

 Andrew crumples the note, tossing it into his kitchen trash can when he gets inside. Being in Steven’s apartment would be almost unbearable.

God, he felt like Edward Cullen. It was fucking embarrassing. He aspired to be at least as cool as Dracula. Hell, he’d even settle for Lestat.

Feeling pretty sorry for himself, Andrew opens a bottle of merlot and pours himself a generous glass. He takes a sip, savoring the bold notes of cedar, smoke, and plum blended with a more subtle taste of chocolate.

He’s laying on the couch, finishing his second glass of wine and half paying attention to something on the History Channel (Vikings, maybe?) when he feels Steven come home. His magic flooding through the walls within seconds, wrapping around Andrew like a blanket, seeping into his skin and making him feel warm.

In all the years Andrew has lived, he’s never met a witch that possessed the kind of power Steven must have. Andrew couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to _taste_ that power.

Logically, Andrew knew it was crazy. They had only just met but Steven woke up a part of him he had forgotten. He made Andrew _want_ things again.

Things like love, companionship, to be bonded.

Andrew pours himself a third glass, hoping to wake with the foolish notion that Steven could even _like_ him gone from his mind and heads to bed. Tries to anyway, sleep doesn’t come easily. He wakes in fits and starts, his dreams trying to claw their way out into reality.

( _Steven sits on a deep red blanket in a small clearing in the middle of a field of beautiful white lilies. The sunlight shines through his lavender hair, making it shimmer. A circle of garnets, moonstone, and citrine surround him._

_Steven jumps to his feet, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. “You came! I didn’t think you would.”_

_His eyes are mesmerizing, the same silver as his pentacle necklace. Andrew can’t look away from their swirling depths. A huge strawberry, almost the size of his palm, appears in Steven’s hand, the one that hasn't slipped into Andrew’s. “Here. Have a taste.”_

_He holds the strawberry up to Andrew’s lips. “Take a bite, Andrew. I know you want to.”_

_Andrew closes his eyes and parts his lips, letting Steven press the tip of the strawberry into his mouth. He sinks his teeth into the flesh of the berry, juice exploding on his tongue and sliding down his throat._

_“Do you want more?” Steven murmurs, sounding very far away._

_“Yes.” Andrew reaches out for him, but his hands only find empty space._

_Steven’s fingers slide up into his hair, his breath ghosting over Andrew’s lips in a way that feels almost like a kiss. “I’m here, sweetheart.”_

_Andrew opens his eyes and they’re in his bed. They’ve lost their clothes in the shift and Andrew can feel every glorious inch of Steven’s warm skin against his own._

_Looking at Steven is almost blinding, but Andrew never wants to look away. His skin glows and sparkles against the black silk sheets, like starlight._

_“You can touch me. I’m_ yours _.”_

_Andrew’s vision seems to tunnel until all he can see are two small punctures on Steven’s neck, so fresh that blood is still welling on the surface._

_“This isn’t real,” Andrew says even as his mouth waters with the desire to taste. “It can’t be.”_

_“Don’t you want it to be?” Steven whispers, pulling Andrew’s head into the crook of his neck. “Take what you want from me.”_

_“_ Yes. _Please.”_

_Andrew drags his tongue across his bite, groaning softly at the taste. The taste is like rich red wine, like... ambrosia. He wants more. He wants everything Steven will give him. He wants to touch and taste and take until they’re both satisfied._

_“Drink.”_

_He sinks his teeth back into Steven’s neck, his moan like the most beautiful music Andrew has ever heard. It’s not a sound he will soon forget._

_“I will always be yours, Andrew.” )_

In the morning, Andrew finds a single white lily outside his door, a note attached with twine. Andrew lifts the lily to his nose, inhaling its sweet scent mixed with the underlying smell that is distinctively Steven.

* * *

 Party starts at 7:00. Hope I see you there. :)

— S 

* * *

Andrew makes it a point to go out before 7:00 and returns only when the sun is nearly over the horizon.

(He can’t bring himself to throw out the flower, so he presses the petals between the pages of an old book and puts it back on the shelf. Out of sight, but not forgotten.)


	2. let’s make this night last forever (forever and ever)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from First Date by Blink 182

Andrew does his best to avoid Steven until he can get his thoughts, his desires, his goddamn  _ dreams _ under control. He’s done it before, spent decades honing his self-control, it should be easy. Except Steven seems to be  _ everywhere _ . 

If he’s not in the hallway - always with a wave and a quiet “Hi Andrew” then he’s downstairs in the lobby talking to the doorman or on the rooftop illuminated by soft, twinkling lights. Andrew can’t escape him and even if he could, he’s in Andrew’s head and his magic is filling Andrew’s apartment.

So, by the time Halloween is right around the corner, Andrew has officially thrown in the towel.  ~~(Steven)~~  Universe, 2. Andrew, 0. 

Steven is in his life, in whatever capacity, for the foreseeable future and… maybe Andrew sort of likes him a little bit. He’s learned a lot about him over the last month - thank you, vampire hearing. 

Like how, for example.

  * Steven quit his job to become a photographer and moved to New York to start a business with Annie. 
  * He calls his mother every night and reassures her often that he’s eating enough. 
  * He listens (and sings along) to _a lot_ of K-Pop.
  * He has a _huge_ crush on someone in the building.



Okay, so Andrew definitely likes Steven and more than a little. Might as well start leaning into it. 

* * *

Andrew goes up to the roof Halloween night for some air and finds Steven. He’s sitting on the loveseat by the firepit with a cellphone wedged between his ear and shoulder, arms gesturing wildly as he talks, the flames from the fire reflecting in his irises.

Andrew can still sense Steven’s magic, but it’s not surrounding him like a cloak anymore. He wonders, if he were to touch him, would he feel the magic on his skin? 

The door clicks shut loudly behind Andrew and Steven’s gaze snaps to him before he quickly looks away and lowers his voice. 

It feels strange, seeing Steven for the first time in almost a week and not having him greet him with a wave.  _ ‘He probably thinks you hate him,’  _ his mind helpfully supplies,  _ ‘You’ve pretty much been ignoring him for a month.’ _

“Hi.” Andrew blurts out after a few minutes, resisting the urge to hide his face in his hands. Steven makes him so,  _ so _ uncool. 

Steven looks back up, his grimace melting away into a smile before he mouths, ‘Hi Andrew’. 

Andrew hasn’t moved when Steven hangs up the phone a few minutes later, frozen in place with something that he thinks might be nerves. It feels like snakes writhing in his stomach and his heart might literally be in his throat. 

Steven tucks his phone into his back pocket, turning his attention to Andrew. “Hey, you can sit, if you want to.” He pats the cushion next to him and scoots closer to the arm of the loveseat to make extra room for Andrew. “I told you, I don’t bite.”

He wishes Steven would stop saying that. 

“You were gone.” Smooth, Andrew. Real smooth. “I mean, I haven’t seen you,” Andrew clarifies, the bare skin of his arm brushing against Steven’s sweatshirt as he sits down 

Steven grins, looking absolutely delighted. Which definitely makes Andrew’s embarrassment worth it. “Yeah, I went home for my brother’s wedding and stayed for a bit to see family from out of town. I just got back this morning.” 

“Did the wedding take the cake?”

Steven dissolves into giggles against Andrew’s side, his hair tickling the underside of Andrew’s jaw, filling him with a warmth that grows with every subsequent touch. “Oh my god, Andrew. That was  _ terrible _ .”

“Whatever, it made you laugh. Couldn’t be that bad.” Andrew is smiling so much that his face is starting to hurt but he doesn’t care. It’s totally worth it. 

Steven pats Andrew’s shoulder. “You keep telling yourself that, buddy.” 

“Look, if we’re going to be friends, you’re just going to have to get used to my puns.” 

“I guess that’s something I can live with,” Steven says with a soft, beautiful smile that makes Andrew’s non-beating heart, honest to god, flutter like a hummingbird’s wings.  

(Christ. If they’re going to be friends, Andrew needs to get himself under control.)

Andrew changes the subject to Halloween in New York and how it’s not the same living in an apartment building. Steven lamenting about his childhood and how much he loved trick or treating with his brother and sister. “It’s not fair that I can’t trick or treat, Andrew. I’m a child at heart.” 

He doesn’t really know what to say. He doesn’t have any Halloween stories of his own to tell. He’s never been trick or treating or done, well,  _ anything _ related to modern Halloween.

He could tell him any of the made-up stories he’s come up with over the years to avoid suspicion but he doesn’t want to lie to Steven. He wants to tell him about when he _finally_ learned to drive a car when he was 200 or winters in Ukraine.  

Andrew eventually settles on telling Steven his favorite memory from his childhood. His mother teaching him and his older brother how to cook. Going out and picking the vegetables from the field, milking the cows, and helping her grind the wheat into flour for bread. He realizes now she probably didn’t need the help after so many years of doing it alone. It probably would have been easier without them underfoot but she never seemed to mind. Never lost her patience with them. 

Steven occasionally asks him a question, about his mom, what it was like growing up on a farm, if they had sheep, while he’s talking. His questions sparking more memories Andrew is willing to talk about until the next thing Andrew knows it’s nearly midnight.

“Geez, I should get to bed. I’m supposed to meet Annie in the morning,” Steven says, looking regretfully at the door back to the inside. “But this was fun. We should, uh. Do this again sometime?” 

Andrew smiles, trying so hard to be cool for once. “I’d like that.” 

He watches Steven disappears behind the door with a wave, wondering what exactly he’s gotten himself into, before heading back inside himself.

* * *

Andrew has just sat down on his couch with a glass of wine and a book, too wired from his time with Steven, when there is a knock at his door.  

“Hey,” Andrew says, swinging the door open to reveal Steven. “What’s up?” 

“Hi.”

Steven shifts from side to side, tapping his foot against Andrew’s door frame. His eyes dart from Andrew’s face to the ground and back again. When his gaze settles briefly on Andrew’s mouth, he lets out a small, nervous giggle. 

“Hi?” Andrew repeats. Steven’s heart is beating so fast, it’s distracting. He wants to reach out and soothe Steven’s nerves but he’s worried any sudden moment will spook him.“Everything okay?”

Steven laughs again, a little more steadily. “Would you like to go out with me tomorrow night? Like, on a date.”

That isn’t what Andrew was expecting him to say. He isn’t sure what he was expecting but  _ definitely  _ not that.  “Okay.” 

“Because I really like you and— wait, what?” Steven says. 

Andrew tentatively brushes his hand against Steven’s, sliding his fingers between Steven’s when he doesn’t pull away. “I said okay. A date sounds great.”

“ _ Oh _ ,” Steven’s gaze focuses on their intertwined fingers. “Sorry, I was kind of expecting you to say no.”

Andrew’s brow creases in confusion. He thought his attraction to Steven was overwhelmingly obvious. “Why would I say no?”

“You’re, like, ridiculously good looking. You know that, right?” Steven says, cheeks turning a pretty pale pink. “Plus, you’re a vampire.”

“I...yes. How did you know?”  

“Really? It’s obvious, dude.” Steven waves his hand dismissively. “Though, I wasn’t completely sure until you told me about making your own flour. So, is like 7:00 good for you?”

Andrew nods in agreement, too focused on the drag of Steven’s thumb along the back of his hand to say anything. Every swipe making more warmth spread across Andrew’s skin until he feels warmed from the inside out. 

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Steven starts shifting again, his heartbeat picking back up and his fingers on his free hand drumming nervously on his thigh. His lips are curved into a smile but he won’t meet Andrew’s eyes, darting from his lips to somewhere over his shoulder and back again.

“Goodnight,” Steven says, giving his hand a squeeze before slipping his hand out of Andrew’s grip. Andrew almost wants to whimper at the loss of his touch. Steven’s skin against his own felt like...home. 

Steven takes two steps towards his apartment and pauses, swiveling back towards Andrew. “Close your eyes.”

Andrew raises an eyebrow questioningly but does as Steven asks.

He hears Steven’s feet drag across the threadbare carpet until he’s so close he can feel the heat radiating off Steven’s body and he’s surrounded by his scent, all the usual things blended with smoke and fire.

“Sweet dreams, Andrew.”

He feels Steven’s lips burned across his cheek and the corner of his mouth until sleep finally takes him.

(He’s sure he dreams of Steven, too.) 

* * *

Andrew does his best not to panic between the time he wakes up and his actual date with Steven. It’s safe to say he’s not very successful. 

Which is  _ ridiculous _ , he’s 245 years old, for god’s sake. It was just a  _ date _ . With Steven, who he’s maybe already half in love with. No big deal. He could do this.

Andrew spends most of the day walking around the city, certain he’ll do something idiotic, like cancel on Steven or move out of town, if he’s in a two block radius of Steven. 

He wanders around Central Park, meanders through Chinatown, and he even does a bit of window shopping until _finally_ , it’s time to get ready for the date.  

Steven knocks on his door a few minutes before 7:00. The sound of his heart, just a few beats too fast, thunders in Andrew’s ears even through the solid oak barrier. It’s reassuring that Andrew isn’t the only one with butterflies. 

Andrew opens the door in the third knock and steps out into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Steven’s fingers are twisting in the red and black fabric of his shirt, drawing Andrew’s eyes down to the thin strip of skin his movements have exposed.  

Andrew counts three freckles before Steven is shoving his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans, his shirt fluttering down over the waistband of his pants.

 “I thought we could go to the roof,” Steven says suddenly, not sounding completely certain. “Sit by the fire, drink some wine.” 

Andrew smiles, even though he kind of feels like he might throw up. “Lead—”

“I was going to take you to this Ukrainian restaurant. Ilnyckyj is Ukrainian, right?” Steven is pacing between Andrew and the door to the roof. “But, then I thought maybe you don’t eat food. Do you eat food?” 

Andrew nods but Steven is still pacing so intently that Andrew doubts Steven notices. “Steven?” 

“So, then I was thinking a movie, but a movie has to be lame to someone who has been alive since before movies were even a thing and, I swear I don’t normally talk this much. I’m just really, really nervous.” Steven finally stops pacing with a sigh, deflating like a balloon that’s been pricked with a needle. 

“Steven, relax. The roof and wine sound great,” Andrew assures him, reaching out to tentatively squeeze his shoulder. “I do eat food, I love movies, and… I’m nervous too. It’s been a couple centuries since I’ve been on a date.”

Steven blinks in surprise. “You haven’t— centuries?”

“No, I— I never wanted to before.” 

“Oh.” Andrew can practically see the gears spinning in Steven’s head as the crease between his brows deepens. “What changed?”

 “The cute witch next door asked me out.” 

Andrew decides to throws caution to the wind, leaning up to brush a kiss across Steven’s cheek, warmth blossoming under his lips. 

Steven takes a deep, shuddering breath, his magic flaring to life at his fingertips, deep purple sparks running across the surface of his skin. 

Steven slots his fingers between Andrew’s, his magic fading to a shimmering silver that twines around their hands and wrists like a vine, pressing their palms together. It kind of reminds Andrew of his brother and sister in law’s handfasting ceremony. 

Steven beams, giving Andrew’s hand a squeeze and pulling him in the direction the roof door. “Shall we?” 


	3. only one thing gonna set you free (that’s my love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Let My Love Open The Door by Pete Townsend

That was over a year ago.

Steven had kissed him when the night was over and returned to his apartment like a gentleman.

Andrew was not so gentlemanly after their next date. He can still _distinctly_ remember the flush that spread from Steven’s neck, down his chest and across his ribcage. His sweet sighs of pleasure as Andrew traced the flush with his lips. His voice, soft and shy when he asked Andrew if he could sleep there, as if Andrew was willing to let him go.

(As if Steven would ever spend a night in his own bed again.)

As if being with Steven didn’t change Andrew’s entire goddamn life.

Before Steven, Andrew had three priorities for his ~~after~~ life:

  1. Keep his bloodsucking tendencies a secret.
  2. Never get attached to anyone or anything with a shorter lifespan than his own.
  3. No feeding from humans (anymore).



Steven shattered two of three with ease. It took mere days after their first date, for Andrew to fall quickly and painfully in love with him and to add a new priority to his list.

  1. Find a cure for vampirism.



That was proving to be more difficult than Andrew anticipated. Andrew had spent the last year researching cures with none of them panning out until he finally has exhausted all but one very unlikely _possible_ cure.  

The thing is the supernatural community has more or less deemed it bogus. The potion part is actually fairly easily but, and this is the part that gives Andrew pause, it requires _True Love ™_ for the potion to have any effect.

The lover must brew a potion made of helichrysum arenarium, orange peel, mugwort, and wolfsbane with the most important step being to add a single white lily dipped in the blood of the vampire they wish to cure. After they drink the potion, the vampire must then drink from them and… that’s where the myth gets a bit fuzzy.

The end result is the vampire becomes mortal again, but the amount of blood they have to take isn’t clear. One passage say nearly all of it, another that it depends on the strength of the potion.

He knows if he tells Steven, he will insist they try it and Andrew doesn’t want to see his face when it doesn’t work. When Steven realizes they don’t have True Love ™.

Living without Steven someday _terrifies_ Andrew, but not quite as much as Steven leaving so Andrew could find True Love ™ scares him.

(Steven is so disgustingly honorable. Andrew loves that about him.)

Thankfully, witches, should they choose to, age at about half the rate humans do, so there are many, many years until Steven’s inevitable death and many years before their age difference is concerning to mortals.

More importantly, time to find a cure that ~~doesn’t involve Steven’s blood~~ will work.

_* * *_

_(The first thing Andrew notices when he wakes is the sweat pooling under his body, the sheets sticking to the curve of his back and the backs of his thighs as he shifts around the bed, searching for Steven, who is nowhere to be found._

_He reaches out with his mind, listening for the faint sound of his voice, his heartbeat, or even the shuffle of his feet across the floor but his quest is met only with silence. Complete silence. He can’t even hear anyone in the neighboring apartments. What is going on?_  

_The second realization is that the sweat drenching the bed is coming from him. He’s the one sweating, but he hasn’t sweat since he was 25 when he was hu—_

_He raises his hand to his chest in disbelief, resting it where his heart should be dormant, only to feel a strong, steady beat beneath his palm. “What the hell?”_

_“What’s wrong, babe?” Steven asks from the doorway, two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. He’s bare-chested and pajama pants, that Andrew suspects are his own if the amount of ankle Steven is showing is any indication, are slung low on his hips.  He glides across the room, setting the mugs down on Andrew’s nightstand before crawling back into bed next to him._

_Andrew pushes himself up, Steven curling himself under his arm once Andrew’s settled against the headboard and a mountain of pillows. “My heart is beating,” he says, expecting Steven to be similarly shocked._

_To Andrew’s surprise, Steven doesn’t bolt upright or check his pulse himself. He laughs, delighted. “I would hope so. Did you forget again?”_

_“Forget? Forget what?” Andrew is so, so confused._  

_“You’re human again. The cure worked. We’re going to grow old and disgusting together.”_

_When Steven presses his lips to Andrew’s, they’re warm, but not the usual warmth that feels like the sun melting the frost. In fact, if it weren’t for the coffee Steven had been drinking, Andrew might not have noticed at all. For the first time, he and Steven are the same temperature._

_“Uh, yeah, I guess I did,” Andrew says, slightly dazed from the kiss._

_It’s then that Andrew notices the twin puncture marks a few inches above Steven’s left collarbone. A bite he knows is his own._

_It worked. Holy shit!— )_  

Andrew wakes up, not in a pool of sweat and tries not to be disappointed. Steven is naked, pressed against his side, the moonlight shining through the window making his skin glow. He’s beautiful, like a work of art. Like a perfect, priceless thing that Andrew shouldn’t be allowed to look at, let alone touch.

Andrew should be happy, and he is, but he’s cold and his heart isn’t beating and god damn it, he wants it, okay? The cure. Wants it so much it’s pathetic.

Steven deserves someone he can grow old with and Andrew wants to be that someone. He’s not that honorable. He’s selfish and greedy and he loves Steven. He can’t leave him.

Steven shuffles impossibly closer, sighing Andrew’s name softly in his sleep. Andrew pushes the hair off of Steven’s forehead and brushes a kiss to his temple. “I’m here.”

The thought of someone else having this, having Steven, makes him vaguely nauseous. Fuck. He’s gotta find something that will work. Andrew doesn’t care if he has to invent one himself.

He’ll find a way. He has to.

_* * *_

Steven and Annie get spectacularly busy with the impending holidays. Something that both thrills and exhausts Steven. Between work and trying to spend what little time they can together, Andrew isn’t sure how Steven sleeps. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was running on caffeine and sugar at this point.

Finally, about a week before Christmas, Steven has a rare day off. (Something Andrew suspects Annie arranged before Steven worked himself to death or she killed him and hide the body.)

They spend the morning watching movies, huddled together on the couch under the heavy duvet from their bed, hot chocolate warming their hands. Andrew has paused the movies more than a few times to lick the lingering taste of peppermint, from the marshmallows he made himself, from Steven’s mouth. 

For some reason, HBO is showing a vampire movie marathon instead of Christmas movies and they’re the third movie in, right as Dracula bites Lucy Harker when Steven shifts out of their blanket cocoon, his collarbones shifting distractingly under the neckline of his sweater and says, “You could bite me, if you want to. I trust you.”

“What?” Andrew forces himself to laugh. “I don’t want to bite you,” Andrew insists, hoping Steven doesn’t notice his fangs already descending.

It’s not a total lie. He _wants_ to want to not bite Steven. Truth be told, he’s a lot better at controlling it than he used to be.

It’s hardest in the early morning hours when Steven is still soft and sleepy. Completely trusting that he is safe from Andrew. He’s not wrong, Andrew would _never_ hurt Steven. He loves him, more than he’s loved anyone. More than he thought it could be possible to love someone.

Still though, when Steven takes off his clothes and climbs into his lap, his lips finding Andrew’s, teeth pressing into the meat of his bottom lip and _tugging_. When he’s moaning Andrew’s name as he rises and falls above him, like waves on the sand. When he twists his long fingers into Andrew’s hair and tugs his face into the curve of his neck that’s slick with sweat, his blood rushing under the skin. When Andrew scraps his blunt teeth across the side of his throat and Steven comes, striping Andrew’s belly and squeezing around him, taking Andrew over the edge with him.

It’s hard not to sink his teeth in and slake his thirst. (To mark Steven, for everyone to see, as _his._ Only his.)

But he doesn’t, even though he _knows_ without a doubt that Steven wants it. Because once he starts, Andrew isn’t completely sure he could stop. He _probably_ would, but, Steven is intoxicating. He has to assume his blood would be the same, like the most amazing rich, red wine and, Andrew doesn’t want to live in a world that doesn’t have Steven. He wants even less to be the cause of a Steven shaped hole in his life.

Waking up to Steven’s face is one of the best things he’s experienced. He’s not going to trade that for anything. He would give up his immortality to live out the rest of his days with Steven if he could. 

“Really?” Steven asks, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

He reaches up and pulls down the collar of his sweater, arching his neck to expose the long line of his throat. It makes Andrew’s mouth water. He can practically feel Steven’s pulse under his lips, taste him on his tongue. Times like this, Andrew’s sure Steven is the devil himself and not a witch.

“Are you sure?”

Andrew swallows heavily around the lump that’s formed in his throat. “Yep. Positive.”

Steven shrugs again, looking slightly disappointed and smoothing the neck of his sweater back into place. “Alright. Consider it a standing offer though.” He smiles, slotting his fingers between Andrew’s with a gentle squeeze. Leaning forward to brush a soft kiss across Andrew’s cheek, he says, “I have to go meet Annie for lunch. I’ll see you later?”

“Of course.” Andrew pulls their linked hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the soft, thin skin over Steven’s wrist. “I love you.”

“I know.” Steven leans down and kisses Andrew sweetly. “I love you too.”

* * *

All things considered, Andrew holds out an impressively long time. It’s a series of events, that Steven no doubt orchestrated, that leads to Andrew giving in. 

It starts with Steven “accidentally” nicking his thumb while slicing mushrooms. He lets out a small hiss of pain, bringing his thumb to his mouth to suck the blood off, nose wrinkling at the taste before smiling and holding out his hand to Andrew. “You wanna taste?”

Andrew shakes his head, hands clenched at his sides. Steven was definitely the devil. “Do you need a band-aid?”

“Nah, I think it’s already stopped bleeding.” 

Andrew almost wants to laugh at the defeated slump of Steven shoulders and his utterly disappointed tone as he goes back to making dinner.  

Later, when Steven is slumped against his bare chest, sweat cooling on their skin and sticky with their combined release, the question nags at Andrew, keeping him on the precipice between consciousness and sleep until he has to ask. “Why do you want it so much?”

“Because it’s part of who you are and I love who you are. I don’t want you to hold yourself back from me.” Steven presses a kiss over Andrew’s heart. “Plus, movies make it look _super_ hot.”

Andrew laughs, swatting at Steven’s shoulder. “You’re ridiculous, you know that.”

“It’s part of my charm,” Steven says, pulling the blankets over their bodies and snuggling deeper into Andrew’s chest. “You’ll taste me someday and your life will be changed.”

“Over my dead body,” Andrew deadpans. “You eat so much sugar, you’d probably make me diabetic.”

Steven sounds just as sleepy as Andrew feels when he finally formulates a response. “Aw, is that your way of telling me you think I’m sweet?”

Andrew kisses the top of Steven’s head. “If I say yes, will you let us get some sleep?”

Andrew gets his answer in the form of Steven’s deep, even breathing. 

“I love you, Steven,” Andrew whispers into his hair, pressing another kiss to his lavender locks and following Steven over the edge into sleep.

* * *

 

Next, Steven cuts himself shaving, followed by a few suspicious scratches from Salem (the gentlest cat in the word) and then finally Steven slicing open his palm while he opens the mail with something so sharp that it barely passes for a letter opener.

“Can you help me bandage this?” Steven asks, walking into their bedroom, blood dripping down his wrist and gauze squeezed in his other hand.

Andrew’s wine glass explodes in his hand, shards of glass littering the floor. “You’re going to get blood on the carpet,” he whines. “Get in the bathroom. I’ll be right there.”

Steven, the loveable idiot that he is, moves into Andrew’s space, splaying himself across Andrew’s legs. “What would I do without you?” Steven whispers the words into Andrew’s mouth, their lips brushing with every word.

Andrew does the only sensible thing he can, which is make out with Steven.

Later, after Steven’s hand is properly cleaned and bandaged and they’re lying in bed, Andrew can’t stop thinking about the dangerous game Steven seems to be playing. 

“My life will be over when you’re gone,” Andrew whispers into Steven’s neck, trailing kisses down the side of his throat. “I won’t love anyone the way I love you. You’re everything to me.”

“You don’t have to live without me. You could —”

Andrew presses a finger to Steven’s lips, cutting off the thought before he can finish it. They’ve talked about this before, more times than Andrew would care to think about. Steven had found it imperative that Andrew knows Steven considers it to be an option. That he wants to be with Andrew forever, even if that means...

“ _No._ I would do _almost_ anything, but not that.” Great, now he’s practically quoting a Meatloaf song. “We’ll find another way, Steven. I promise.”

Steven sighs, his mouth creased in a frown. “Okay. I’ll reach out to the coven _again_. Maybe they can find something.”

* * *

Andrew gives in a mere two weeks later. His head is between Steven’s thighs, Steven’s hand gripping his hair, as he swallows around him. “ _Please_ , Andrew.”

“Be patient,” Andrew teases, his voice absolutely wrecked. He loved not needing to breathe. It made it that much easier to make Steven fall apart.

He ducks his head, intending to finish what he started. “Andrew, wait,” Steven says,  tightening the grip he has on Andrew’s hair and tugging until Andrew gives in, sliding up Steven’s body.

“Hey,” Andrew whines, slapping Steven’s shoulder. “Why’d you stop me?”

“I...uh,” Steven starts, giggling nervously. It would be charming, if Andrew didn’t very much want to get back to blowing him.

Steven reaches up to trace the swollen outline of Andrew’s mouth with his thumb, a soft sigh escaping his mouth before he’s dragging Andrew down to meet his lips.

Steven licks along the seam of Andrew’s mouth, pressing his teeth into his bottom lip and tugging until Andrew moans and lets Steven deepen the kiss. He flicks his tongue against Andrew’s canines, eliciting a shudder that Andrew feels down to his bones.

Steven swallows audibly, grasping Andrew’s hand and trailing their fingers up the crease of his inner thigh. “Please?”

“Steven…”

Andrew wants to deny him but he wants this _so_ badly, has been unable to stop thinking about it since Steven gave his consent months ago. It wasn’t in his nature to deny fresh blood from a willing body. Let alone from Steven, who he’s craved since the moment they met. “I could hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

Andrew works his way back down Steven’s body, gentle kisses down his chest, a hint of teeth across his ribs. He sucks a series of bruises between Steven’s hip bones, his beautiful pale skin marred with a constellation of purple and pink.

He would be content to spend the rest of the night, hell, the rest of his life, right here, nestled between Steven’s thighs.

“I _know_ you won’t. You would never hurt me,” Steven insists between sighs of pleasure. “Don’t you want to know how I taste?”

Steven’s moan as Andrew sinks his teeth into his thigh is a sound Andrew will _never_ forget. He won’t soon forget Steven’s hands fisted in his hair or the full body shudder after his first swallow either.

For a moment, Steven’s blood is all he can think about, vampire instincts taking over. This is what he was afraid of. Draining the life out of his boyfriend because he can’t control the animal inside.

As if he can read Andrew’s mind, Steven sighs his name, voice completely devoid of fear, the hand in Andrew’s hair sliding down to cup his cheek. “I love you.”

His words clear Andrew’s mind and he’s able to reign in his bloodlust.  Steven whines when he pulls away, clinging to Andrew’s shoulders as Andrew licks the small punctures clean. He presses a gentle kiss to each one.

“Why did you stop?” Steven complains, echoing Andrew’s earlier sentiment. “I want more.”  

“Thought we could do something better,” Andrew says, wrapping his hand around Steven’s dick, rubbing his thumb under the head where he knows Steven is the most sensitive.

“Y-Yeah, that sounds good too,” Steven gasps.

Which is the last thing Steven says for a very, very long time.

“So, what did I taste like?” Steven asks, spread out across Andrew’s chest, sounding completely strung out. The combination of blood loss and orgasm very likely leaving him feeling drunk.

“Ambrosia.”


	4. never gonna leave you (you're the only one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Never Gonna Leave You by Adele

It’s fairly natural after that to feed from Steven whenever they’re intimate. Well, as natural as drinking your boyfriend's blood can be, anyway.

Andrew stops getting blood from the butcher shop (“Why pay for it when you can drink me?” Steven reasons, blushing a color so red that Andrew is surprised Steven hasn’t passed out from lack of blood to his brain, before continuing “It’s not like I don’t like it.”) and consequently, the amount of sex they have increases _a lot_.

It takes a few months for Andrew to realize he doesn’t even always drink from Steven when he bites him. Sometimes, after Andrew has spent a considerable amount of time teasing Steven to the edge and back again, he’ll sink his fangs into Steven’s thigh or shoulder and Steven will come _instantly_ , striping their bellies with his release.

It’s an… _interesting_ realization to say the least. One that Andrew plans on having _so_ much fun with.

* * *

“You got something in the mail from Shane and Ryan,” Steven yells from the bathroom. “A demon, witch, and a vampire, there’s gotta be a joke in there somewhere.”

Andrew chuckles. “A demon, witch, and a vampire walk into a bar…?”

“Can you make me tea? I’m gonna be so late,” Steven asks, snagging half of Andrew’s english muffin. 

“Already done.” Andrew slides a travel mug across the countertop, his eyes drawn the column of Steven’s neck. “You _might_ want to wear a turtleneck to work.”

“Why?” Steven tilts his head to the side, like Salem does when she hears a sound outside the apartment, his forehead creased in confusion. It’s so cute it nearly restarts Andrew’s heart. “It’s not that cold today.”

Andrew pulls Steven back into the bathroom, positioning him in front of the mirror still streaked with steam. His shirt is like something out of a romance novel. White and flowy, the wide neck gaping so the entirety of Steven’s throat and his collarbones are exposed. Andrew is more than a little tempted to drag Steven back to bed, work be damned.

Steven’s neck is _gorgeous_. A galaxy of deep purples, vivid reds, and pastel pinks atop miles of soft, pale skin. Andrew feels absurdly pleased with himself and his handiwork. If anyone were to see Steven’s neck, there would be no doubt who he belonged to. Andrew is written all over his skin.

Andrew presses his thumb into the bite mark on his shoulder, watching Steven’s eyes go wide and his throat bob as he swallows heavily. “ _Oh._ ”

Steven is very late for work that day, but he _is_ wearing a turtleneck.

* * *

Andrew isn’t proud of it, but he had kind of forgotten about curing himself. Hell, he’d forgotten that he even asked Shane and Ryan for help.

It was familiarly common for vampires to feed from people they’re intimate with, but it wasn’t something Andrew had ever done. The rules he set for himself making it impossible. Now that he has, he can understand why so many vampires have done it. It was an unbelievable feeling, so much so that the cure took a backseat in Andrew’s thoughts.

The package from Shane and Ryan was a wake-up call that, even if life with Steven was great the way it was, even if he and Steven both loved it, he would still outlive Steven by decades, possibly centuries.

Andrew needed to refocus his efforts and not get quite so lost in Steven again.

Andrew slid the contents of the package onto the coffee table. A book thumps out, a note fluttering from its pages.

* * *

 Ilnyckyj -

Hope this helps your special quest. It was not easy to find.

SM & RB

* * *

The book contained the same cure Andrew had yet to try but in far more detail. It did specify, just like the Dark Grimoire that there was no historical evidence of this cure being effective. Many vampires had tried and failed. Most of which also killed their mates in the process. Something about the potion creating a feeding frenzy that made it near impossible for the vampire to stop.

The only semi-encouraging piece of information Andrew found was that, as far as they could tell, no one had ever tried it with a witch (or a demon but that was more a blood incompatibility thing). Maybe witch blood was the key.

Andrew pushes himself up from the couch, pulling out his phone to send Shane a thank you text and putting away the book when Wuthering Heights catches his eye.

He slides it out from its place on the shelf, between the Demonomicon and Jane Eyre. Andrew flips through the pages until he reaches the center, where the lily Steven had given him when he moved in was pressed between the pages.

‘ _Maybe I should at least tell_ _Steven_ ,’ Andrew thought, lifting it off the page, careful not to damage the brittle petals. Steven had been changing Andrew’s life every step of the way, starting with this flower. He deserves to know there was a chance.

Worst case: Steven dies and Andrew stakes himself. No big deal.  

* * *

 ( _The rooftop is filled with red roses and white lilies. Steven’s favorite. Andrew reaches out to touch the flowers, the buttery soft feel of the petals on his fingers reminding him of Steven’s skin._  

_“Steven? I’m here.”_

  _He looks around the rooftop, seeing no signs of other life. Maybe Steven was running late._

_His drops his hand from the flower petals, his fingers coming away slick with something wet. Weird. The petals didn’t feel wet. He rubs the liquid between his fingers -- doesn’t feel like water-- and looks down at his hands. Blood. Around him, the flowers suddenly decay and turn to ash, the air thick with it, filling his mouth with the acrid taste._

_He absentmindedly brings his hand to his mouth to taste and his world drops out from beneath him. Steven’s blood. He’s drenched in it. He feels like he can’t breathe. Like, someone dropped a few cement blocks into his chest._

_“Steven?” he calls, praying for an answer. He has to be okay. Without Steven, he doesn’t-- god he doesn’t even want to think about it._  

_Something makes him turn around and he’s in their bathroom. Steven’s lifeless eyes stare back at him from the bathtub._

  _“No. No, no, no.”_

_“You could have stopped this.” Steven’s voice hisses in his head. “You could have saved me, Andrew.”_

_The spot Steven likes for Andrew to bite because clothes more easily conceal it is clean and closed, but just a few inches below is a violent, ragged bite over Steven’s jugular. Blood still pouring from it, filling the tub until it spills over the edge and onto the floor._

_Andrew has two hysterical thought as he slides down the wall onto the blood-soaked floor. The first is, it’s kind of like in that movie they watched last weekend. The Shining? And the second,_

_“I did this,” Andrew realizes with horror. “I’m so sorry, Steven. I should have--”_

_“There’s time,” Steven’s voice whispers. “You can still save me. You just have to wake up.”)_

 Andrew stumbles out of the bedroom. He _needs_ to see Steven. Has to make sure that he’s...that Andrew didn’t--.

 “Hey, sleepyhead,” Steven greets him, grazing his cheek with a kiss as he breezes past him on his way back to his open laptop. “I was beginning to think you’d never get out of bed.”

 Andrew stands frozen in place, his mind foggy from sleepy and fear that he hadn’t been dreaming. He can hear Steven’s computer mouse clicking and the infrequent clink of ceramic on glass as Steven slowly drinks his tea.

“Are you okay? You’re not usually _this_ quiet. Are you getting sick?” Steven frowns. “ _Can_ you even get si--.”

“I found a cure I think we should try.”

Steven looks up from his screen, minimizing the set of photos he must have been editing. His glasses are perched on the end of his nose and he’s in one of Andrew's oversized sweaters. He looks warm and welcoming, like home. Andrew hates that this is going to hurt him.

“Really?” Steven asks. “That’s awesome.”

Andrew nods, shuffling over to where Steven is sitting. “Yeah, um. In the Dark Grimoire and the book from Shane.”

“But we’ve had that book for, like, forever. Eight months at least.”  

“I kind of… found it a while ago.” Andrew pauses, steeling himself for Steven’s reaction. “But it needed your blood and I didn’t want—it’s a long shot anyway.” 

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Steven’s voice breaks on the last syllable, his face crumpled in something akin to pain. Pain that Andrew caused. “I… _my_ blood can cure you. How could you keep this from me?”

“Steven, it’s just a myth. There’s nothing in any of the texts that show it working. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

Steven’s tight expression melts into something that is almost a smile. “That’s what most people would say about us. Witches, vampires, demons - those are myths too.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” Andrew insists, crossing his arms across his chest. “We’re real.”

Steven curls his hand around the bend of Andrew’s elbow, his thumb rubbing slow circles that slowly leeches the tension out of Andrews’s body. “And the cure could be too. Why didn’t you want to try before?”

“Because what—” Andrew pauses. This is Steven. The absolute love of his life. Andrew knows that, without a doubt. Knows it like he knows the sky is blue and the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. But, that doesn’t mean that he and Steven are, like soulmates or whatever.  

There’s no gauge for this, no handbook. Nothing tangible that Andrew can see or hold that would prove what they had was _special_.

Andrew takes a deep breath and starts over. “I didn’t tell you because what if we weren’t-- _aren’t_ \-- ”

“True love? Of course we are.” Steven uses his free hand to cup Andrew’s jaw, drawing him into a kiss that Andrew wants to melt into, forget all about this conversation, the cure, everything and just lose himself in Steven. “But, I guess there’s only one way to find out for sure.”

“How can you be so sure?” Andrew cringes at how small and insecure his voice sounds.

He wishes he had Steven’s faith in things. He feels Steven smile into his hair, the press of his lips against his skin soothing some of the anxiety churning in his stomach, the dream starting to fade from memory.

“A vampire and a witch falling in love? C’mon, that’s true love.” 

“I still think it won’t work, even if we are,” Andrew pauses, squirming uncomfortably. “You know.” 

“True loveeeee _._ ” Steven fills in, beaming. “Just think of puns you can make when we get married. We could have mints that say ‘mint to be’ and it will be the truth. How cool is that.” 

Andrew smiles, partially because he _is_ thinking about all the puns he could make, but mostly because of Steven. Andrew doesn’t know what he’d do without him.  “ _When_ we get married? I don’t remember proposing,” Andrew teases.

Steven blinks, frozen like a deer stuck in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. He can see the gears twisting and turning inside Steven’s head, probably about two minutes away from panicking.  

Deciding to put Steven out of his misery, he says, meaning every word, “I’ll marry you, but I’m expecting a better proposal next time.” 

Steven’s expression softens into a smile. “Why don’t we focus on making you human again first.” He punctuates his statement with a kiss to Andrew’s cheek, his hand resting over Andrew’s dormant heart.

 “You’re the one that brought it—” Andrew winces when the back of Steven’s hand connects with his shoulder with a thwack. He holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. What do we need?”

Steven thumbs through the Dark Grimoire, making the occasional hum. “I think we have all the thing we need for the potion. Your blood should be the last ingredient.” Steven snorts. “Actually, I guess _my_ blood is the last ingredient.”

Andrew is not amused.

* * *

The potion is ready the day before Andrew’s 247th birthday. Andrew thinks maybe Steven planned it that way. Steven said it was more like fate.  

“I don’t know how I’m ever getting you a better birthday present.” Steven complains. “Nothing is going to top making you human again.”

“ _If_ this works.” 

Steven rolls his eyes affectionately. “Don’t be such a downer, man.”

“I’m being realistic, Steven.” He doesn’t want to get his, or Steven’s, hopes up, but he’s not being pessimistic. “There’s a difference.”

“Not with you there isn’t.” Steven uncorks the potion vial.

A flood of magic rushes out from the center of the room as Steven drinks the potion, the tendrils making Andrew’s skin tingle.

“Are you ready?” Steven asks, placing the vial down on the countertop and pulling his sweater over his head, tossing it behind him.

The apartment must be cold, though Andrew can’t feel it. Steven’s skin erupting in goosebumps before his sweater even hits the floor. Andrew’s fingers itch to trace the trail of love bites ranging from Steven’s jaw and the slope of his beautiful neck down his stomach to hip bones and even to the series he worked across Steven’s inner thighs.

He wants to kiss down the curve of his spine and between the hollow points of Steven’s ribs, wants to press an ear to his chest and listen to Steven’s heartbeat.

He wants to live in this moment forever. Steven bare before him, eyes full of love and trust. Alive.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Steven holds out his hand for Andrew who takes it, drawing Steven into the circle of his arms and tucking his head into the crook of Steven’s neck.

Steven leads them into their bedroom, flopping back into the mattress and pulling Andrew down with him, never breaking his hold.

Steven’s fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scraping at his scalp and it’s so much like Andrew’s dream from so long ago. He almost expects to open his eyes and find himself back in that field of lilies. _Almost_.

He brushes his lips against his bite mark. The one he always comes back to. The one Steven, in the throes of pleasure, always presses Andrew’s mouth to with a quiet plea for what they’re both craving.

“You have to bite me for it to work,” Steven murmurs, stroking his fingers through Andrew’s hair, his nails lightly scratching at his scalp. “Kissing doesn’t work, unfortunately.”

“ _I know,_ ” Andrew growls. He hasn’t bitten Steven since before the nightmare. He tried a few weeks ago after Steven _begged_ him, but seized up in fear. Thankfully, Steven had let it go after that. “Just give me a minute.”

“Is this like, the vampire equivalent of erectile dysfunction?” Steven jokes.

“ _Steven_.”

He shrugs. “What? Is it? Because, you know, it happens to everyo--”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Andrew whispers. “I’m terrified.” 

His fingers stutter in Andrew’s hair, quickly resuming their soothing motion.“You could never hurt me. You love me too much.” Steven leans back and tips Andrew’s face up with his thumb. He kisses Andrew, soft and sweet and full of feelings. “I trust you.” 

“I do love you.” Andrew twists his hands in the hem of Steven’s shirt, worrying the seam between his fingers. Steven was right. He loved him too much. Steven was tied up in every part of him, even the farthest, darkest corner.

Andrew takes a deep breath and whispers to himself, “It’s now or never, Andrew.” 

He sinks his fangs into Steven and drinks, Steven’s quiet groan a familiar sound that could almost make Andrew forget what they’re attempting.

He takes a deeper drink and his head swims and he feels like the floor is shifting beneath him, rising and falling like a roller coaster until finally, it drops out entirely.

“Andrew?” Steven sounds simultaneous too far away and too close. “I think it’s working.” 

The last coherent thoughts he has before losing consciousness are Steven’s blood has taken on a weird, sort of bitter taste, metallic taste and, _oh._ This is what blood tastes like to humans.  


* * *

 “I think you’re starting to go grey.” Steven brushes the hair off Andrew’s forehead, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I thought that would take longer, you’re _only_ 249.”

“Fuck you, I’m 29. Technically, I’m younger than you.”

Steven snorts, closing his laptop where he’d been reviewing pictures Annie took of them for her portfolio. “I don’t think that’s how it works. Becoming human didn’t erase 218 years of you being on the earth as a vampire.”

Andrew shrugs, raising an eyebrow. “I’m the first and the only human turned vampire...turned human. I think it works any way we want.”

Andrew brushes a kiss to the back of his hand, the familiar current of magic flaring to life under Steven’s skin.

“That’s true. We are the first recorded case of True Love ™,” Steven beams proudly, snuggling deeper into Andrew’s side. “We’re really special, huh.” 

Andrew curves his hand around Steven’s neck, his thumb resting on the two small scars above his collarbone. The cold silver of Andrew’s wedding band presses the warmth of his skin making Steven shiver. He should really have Steven enchant them to always be warm.

He grins into the crook of Steven’s neck, his lips brushing his long healed bite. “Oh...we’re something.”


End file.
